The next day it was still overcast. I had been to this part of the country in mid-February of 2017, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The air was so clear you could see for thirty miles. In July of 2017 I could see small rains in the distance. This trip was the first time I had seen the sky totally overcast, and I wasn’t digging it. But, as a Park Ranger said to me later in the trip, nature gives you what it gives you. So I was off to the Grand Canyon National Park, driving down Hwy 89. Once again beautiful mountains and views, some spectacular cuts and overviews, a great drive. This was Navajo country, and I was starting to notice quite a few falling apart trailers and just about done roadside stands. My first trip to the Grand Canyon hadn’t seen me go up this way, so this was new territory.

The edge of the Painted Desert.

From past blogs people might remember I had wanted to see the Painted Desert. I had found a swatch of it on the north end of Petrified Forest National Park, but I wanted to drive through it. I noticed that as I got to the turn off to Tuba City the colors of the formations were looking a lot like the Painted Desert. I was going to drive toward Tuba City later in the day, so it was looking like I was about to hit the jackpot. I stopped at the Cameron Trading Post just past the bridge over the Little Colorado River. I bought a couple of cokes and a handmade Dreamcatcher. Not really anything I needed, but I liked what I saw. They wrapped it well and I was on my way. If you get this way I can recommmend this trading post, which is really a well stocked first class gift shop.

The Watchtower on the east end of Grand Canyon National Park.

There is now a roundabout at the junction of Hwys 89 and 64 (the road into the park). I thought they were interesting when I was in Europe. I hate the damn things in our country. There were a couple of wrecked cars and a covering of broken glass in this roundabout, along with the usual emergency vehicles. If I had wanted to go to Flagstaff there would have been a delay, but the way to the park was open. I was looking forward to taping the way in to the park. There are fantastic mountains, stretches of forest, and views of the Little Colorado River gorge. More on that later.

The Colorado River, running through the center of the Grand Canyon.

It was still overcast, and I was climbing in elevation into the park, reaching over seven thousand feet. It was looking like the view into the canyon was not going to be good. I asked the ranger at the fee station and she said that it had been socked in by clouds the day before, but in the late morning they had faded and left a great view. I was hoping for the same.

Viewpoint of the Grand Canyon.

The first stop was Desert View and the Watchtower. The clouds were really covering up the canyon, and I was beginning to think this was a wasted trip. When I got down to the edge I was surprised to see that the clouds had dissipated enough to offer a good view. Not great, but good enough to see the canyon in its glory, if not all of it. The desert view, miles and miles to the east, wasn’t very good. I guess you can’t have everything, and I had taken shots of that view in clear weather on the last trip. The Desert View Station has just about everything the main visitors’ center at the other end of the park has. Coffee shop, gift shop and restaurant. It wasn’t time to eat yet, but it was very cold outside, so I got a coffee before heading to the next stop. So far both the walking pole and the selfie stick I was using had proven their worth. I will have links to their sales pages at the end of this blog. I’m getting nothing for plugging them, but if I find something of great use, I want to trumpet their worth.

Grand Canyon viewpoint.

If you have never been to the Grand Canyon before, go. I really can’t say this enough. The pictures are great. It even looks awesome on an ultra-high definition wide screen TV. But until you actually stand there, looking out over miles of rock layers that were laid down in shallow seas over billions of years, you really don’t understand. So go, before you leave this Earth.

Woods at the top of the canyon.

I stopped at all of the viewpoints up to and including Grandview Point, the last before getting into the congestion of the visitor’s center. There were a lot of people out, even on a cold day. Some Chinese girls were playing a little too close to the cliff edge for my comfort, but otherwise everyone seemed to be taking it safe. At one viewpoint there was a score of so backpackers getting ready to head down the trail to the river. I was able to get some very good shots, talked to a bunch of people, and generally enjoyed myself, despite the weather.

Looking into the Little Colorado River Gorge.

I talked with one man with Georgia plates, thinking he might have driven here from my neck of the woods. Nope. He was a photographer who had rented the car in Vegas. I asked a guy in a car with Florida tags, family in tow, if he had driven from Florida. He said yes, and he came from a place I had probably never heard of called Wauchula. I let him know that my dad had grown up in that town. The guy was a sheriff’s deputy who had just retired, while his son had graduated early and was college bound. So he had gathered up the whole family and made the trip of a lifetime.

Amazing formmations of the Little Colorado Gorge.

On the way out of the park I stopped to take some shots of the Little Colorado River Gorge in the distance, and a family stopped with me to do the same. Probably thinking that if I did it then it was okay. Or if not, we would share in the guilt. I stopped next at the Navajo Park overlooking the gorge and they did the same. Talking with the dad, while his wife and daughters went shopping at the Navajo shopping stalls, I learned that his daughters had been playing too close to the edge at the canyon, something which had nearly caused him a heart attack. The Little Colorado Gorge is spectacular. Not near as wide as the one carved by the Colorado, probably less than a hundred yards across at the wide point, but with sheer walls dropping down to the small river at the bottom. A young woman was walking her dog, and the beast was pulling her toward the edge. She was having trouble controlling it until her boyfriend came along. There was a railing, but in some places it would be easy to go under without a problem, and it was a long drop.

I guess arachnds have now been moved to the reptilian order.

I stopped at the Burger King at the junction of 89 and 64, getting myself and my car filled up. Talking with the young Navajo man behind the counter, I asked about the Painted Desert. He asked me which way I was heading (Tuba city to Monument Valley) and he told me I had a spectacular drive ahead. Excited about the trip, I headed north, into the little section of the Painted Desert I had driven through that morning, and turned east onto US 160. The drive was spectacular, with vistas of multicolored pastel cliff faces all the way into Tuba City. I took lots of video and stills. That night, looking them over, I was a little bit disappointed that the colors didn’t come out the way I had remembered them. Another example of having to be there.

The Painted Desert.

From Tuba City I continued northwest on 160, then turned onto 163 north to Oljato-Monument Valley. Soon I was at Goulding’s Lodge, checking in, and signing up for a tour the next day. I had been planning to take a morning tour, then get on the road north right after, but the first tour that I wanted was at 1, so I needed to change my itinerary a bit. There was some confusion in finding the apartment I had booked, but I finally found it, got all of my stuff upstairs, and headed out to look over the Goulding’s land a bit. This included a small University outpost and an RV park. The apartment was cool, with two bedrooms, a full kitchen, really more than I needed. But when I had booked it the apartment was cheaper than the regular rooms. It would be perfect for two couples, or a pair of platonic friends, who wanted to spend a couple days out here. And after dinner I went to the theater to watch John Wayne in She Wore A Yellow Ribbon, which featured many of the monuments in the valley. Afterwards it was back to the apartment to sleep the sleep of the exhausted.

Next up: Monument Valley and the Night From Hell.

The Alaska Life Selfie Stick: I love this thing. It locks in place and doesn’t budge, holding the camera perfectly steady. And I think you could knock out a bear with it.

Brown Mountain Trekking Poles: They come as a set of two, and I only use one. Much more handy than a regular cane, I use one in town. Quick release allows you to collapse and expand it in seconds. A very sturdy, well made set of poles.

I woke to my cell phone alarm and started to get myself ready for the day. Then, putting on my watch, I noticed that the time did not agree with the phone. A quick google search revealed that I had forgotten completely about Daylight Savings Time. Not a real problem, though I had gotten an hour’s less sleep than I had planned. I didn’t really have any plans for the day other than getting to Page, Arizona and catching as much of the Grand Staircase Escalante as I could. A Cuban-American friend had noted that Escalante meant staircase, so the name was kind of redundant. I had noted that they wanted their American visitors, not all of whom spoke Spanish, to understand the name. Anyway, there was no drive through except the one to Bryce, and I wasn’t going that way. So I would have to hope I got a good view of something along the way. I wasn’t disappointed.

An escarpment in the Grand Staircase. I would love to wake up to this every day.

Another breakfast at Porter’s. They had a special this day, two pork chops on a breakfast platter with eggs and sourdough biscuit. Yum. After breakfast it was back up Hwy 9 and the High Road, headed for Mt. Carmel Junction. I had gone there on the last trip, turning north on US 89 to head to Bryce. This time I would be heading south. Unfortunately, it was raining this day, and most of my video features windshield wipers going back and forth. Couldn’t be helped, and I still got some good footage. I stopped off at the huge convenience store at the Junction to get a couple of sodas, and then headed off toward Kanab.

Rock formation in the Grand Staircase Escalante Monunment.

There were some great vistas of the National Monument to my left as I drove, and rolling hills desert leading to the Grand Canyon Escarpment to my right. I was able to get some video, but unfortunately there were not enough pulloffs, and I had to make creative use of the shoulder to get some stills. The problem was, the Akaso, while getting great shots to the front and near sides, missed the views into the canyons, the shots that were so spectacular. Still, I got a good view of some of it. Being a National Monument, there were no paved roads piercing the center, nor were there any plans for putting any in. They want to keep the area as primitive and natural as possible, and I can’t blame them. Next time I may come this way with a four wheel drive and go down some of the dirt roads that penetrate the monument. I had wanted to visit the North Rim of the Grand Canyon this trip, but it was closed until May. As I found out on this trip, there was still a lot of snow up in the higher altitudes, and the North Rim was much higher than the south.

Best Friend’s Animal Rescue visitor center.

North of Kanab I ran into a surprise. I had been told in Springdale that Good Friends Animal Rescue had a facility in Kanab, but I had figured they meant within the town. Now, miles from the city, I saw the sign. I pulled in to the visitor center and was disappointed to find out that they wouldn’t have a tour for another three hours. I didn’t have that kind of time, but took them up on the invitation to drive through the canyon myself. It was a huge property in a beautiful rocky canyon. They had horse pastures where they took care of the equines, including one I saw that was blind. There was a large animal graveyard, and cabins for dogs and cats. I was impressed. I donate to this organization, and it did my heart good to see the care they were giving to abused and abandoned animals. Kanab itself was not such a big deal, another small town, though much larger than most I had driven through on this trip.

Formations rising out of Lake Powell.

From Kanab I continued along US 89, and more miles of beautiful scenery, until I came to Lake Powell. Now I was in Arizona, which didn’t use Daylight Saving’s Time, so I regained my lost hour, for now. The large lake is formed by the back flow of the Colorado River from the Glen Canyon Dam. It’s a very large lake, and I only got to see a little of it. I went into the National Recreation Area and took some shots of the mesas that were sticking out of the water. Lake Powell is the first of the four lakes that have been formed by damming the Colorado River, and looks to be in good shape, with water up to the banks. There were many boats out on the lake, and many more in the storage buildings along its banks. From there I drove to the dam.

The Colorado River Gorge west of Lake Powell.

Bridge over the Colorado River Gorge.

A bridge spans the gorge a little bit out from the dam. To my left was the dam. I had seen on the way to the bridge that the water was about ten feet below the top of the dam. Now on the bridge I looked to the right, and felt my heart skip a beat. The narrow gorge seemed to plunge down a thousand feet to the river. I really had no way of telling the distance, but it was enough to evoke a feeling of vertigo. I continued on to a pull off and got a good look at the dam and the gorge, taking pictures. A little further up the road there was a sign pointing the way to the scenic overlook. I went that way and got an even better look at the gorge. Afterwards I went to McDonald’s for lunch, then a resupply run to Walmart. Then it was to La Quinta to check in. I took a nap, then went to Denny’s for dinner. I went to sleep that night, looking forward to the Grand Canyon National Park the next day, hoping for good weather.

Woke up realizing that this would be the last day of the first week of the trip. As usual, these things seemed to speed by too fast. When you’re a child, the hours seem to crawl by. Now, when I can enjoy the time, it seems to fly by at the speed of light.

We’re watching you.

The night before I was told by the owner of the hotel that my favorite breakfast place in Springdale, Porters (also known as Wiley’s because of the Roadrunner and Coyote decor) was closed. I am happy to report that this was not true, and I popped over there for a very good breakfast and lots of coffee. The waitress was very personable, and I had to ask her if the Buzzard statues over some of the booths had meaning. She laughed, and said that sometimes the staff turned the heads to look at a particular booth.

Walking toward The Narrows.

My handy-dandy Annual Pass got me through the gate to Zion, and I was soon in the parking lot waiting for the shuttle bus. As said in the last blog, the day before was the last day people could take cars deep into the park. They have too many visitors, and the road would soon be clogged. Fortunately they had a very good shuttle bus system, with a bus coming by each of the eight stops every five minutes or so. The buses were not crowded, and there was no wait, as there was last time. I think they were getting them ready for the rush, before they would be packed. Good thinking, as a couple of the buses broke down while I was in the park. Fortunately none of the vehicles I rode on. Just like last time I rode all the way to the end, to the Temple of Sinawava and the entrance to the narrows. I walked a short ways along the Virgin River, taping. The narrows are popular, but to my way of thinking too dangerous. If you’re an hour in when a flash flood hits, you could be in real trouble. Remember that term if you come out west. Flash Flood. They are real, and they are dangerous. An entire family had been swept away outside of Phoenix in July of 2017. And you would have to walk through cold water the entire way.

The Virgin River.

Zion will feature prominently in my post-apocalyptic work. It has water, trees, and sandstone cliffs that can be tunneled into. It also is defensible, with easily guarded entrances. And it’s geologically active. They have had river diverting landslides in the recent past, and expect to have them in the near future. The rocks are fantastic, cliffs everywhere. They have mule deer and California Condors (see, everyone with sense is trying to get out of California, including the birds). There are supposed to be some terrific hikes up the canyon walls, but in my current state of health they aren’t for me. Hopefully someday. There are also warning signs showing a figure about to hit a hard surface, with printed warning that it is possible to fall off the trails. So don’t go up with someone you don’t trust, though going up with someone you hate might be a plan.

You have been warned. People do fall off the cliffs, as the infographic shows.

I rode back through the park, stopping at each bus stop to get some video, then riding the next one to come along when I was ready. So I went to Angels Landing, Zion Lodge and Emerald Pools Trail. I walked in a bit on Emerald Pools Trail and got some great shots. Back at the visitor’s center I bought a book on the geology of the canyon and headed out looking for lunch. I know I could get the information online, but I still like to curl up with a book. The only problem I have is the weight restriction on airline bags, or I would come back with a hundred pounds of books. There was a restaurant through the pedestrian entrance to the park. Tired of all the burgers I had had over the last week, I ordered the fish n chips at the Zion Canyon Brewing Company. The lunch was okay, the service was good, and I got a meal in me before going back into the park to get my car and drive up the high road.

Cliff walls at Zion.

The High Road is Zion-Mt. Carmel Hwy, or Hwy 9. It goes upward on the canyon wall through six switchbacks before getting to the one mile long tunnel. Spectacular views, and a lot of traffic this day. A slight bit of drizzly rain, but fortunately not while I was driving or taping. The first time I came this way it blew my mind. I knew what to expect this time, so it wasn’t as much of a rush, but still gorgeous. On the other side of the tunnel is a different part of the park. There’s another short tunnel up the way, and a lot of pullovers so you can look at and take pictures of some of the most spectacular geology I have ever seen. Mountains like Checkerboard Mesa, several side canyons, and rock layers at various angles that defied my ability to explain how they had gotten that way. I video taped the entire way, then did the way back as well. Driving these routes, each way is completely different, since you are approaching them at different angles. I told the ranger at the park entrance up here that this was my favorite part of the park. She said that most people like the lower area the most, and I told her, ‘yes, but they don’t know geology.’

Shuttle Bus at Zion.

After leaving the park I drove up a couple of side streets in Springdale to catch some different views of the canyon, and stopped at the gift shop across the street from my hotel to redeem my coupon, then over to Zion Outdoor to pick up a day pack to replace the cheap Russian one I had brought with me, the one that had fallen apart. And another full day was in the books. I repaired back to my hotel to eat leftover pizza, not knowing that a couple of surprises would meet me in the morning.

After Breakfast at the small café that serves the hotel, I was on the road again. The breakfast was good, if not the best I had had on the trip, and the staff was friendly. Then into Pahrump. I had been thinking about doing a big roundabout through the Nevada desert to get to I-15 and the trip up the Virgin River Gorge, but now thought it might be better to get to the hotel in Springdale earlier. It turned out to be a wise decision. So it was down Hwy 95 to Vegas. The state troopers were busy this day, and I saw two sports cars (with racing stickers and everything) stopped on the side of the road getting tickets. After lunch in Vegas I took the Bruce Woodbury Beltway from 95 to I-15, and was on my way north.

Mt. Charleston in the Spring Mountains as seen from Pahrump.

The first time I had come this way the Virgin River gorge had caught me by surprise. This time I knew what was coming, and there wasn’t as much of the shock and awe as the first time. Still, it is a spectacular drive with starkly beautiful rock walls and mountains on each side. I filmed it going through, and only discovered later that there was a smashed bug in the middle of the camera field. The things you learn, too late. Besides, there was no way I could have stopped and cleaned the windshield even if I had known.

Rock formations of Hwy 9 going to Zion.

I got off on Hwy 9 to Hurricane, then wended my way through the landscapes to the town of Springdale, situated at the entrance to Zion. Beautiful country of cliffs and mesas. I kept thinking of the stone age, then even further back to the era of the dinosaurs. Some of these rocks had been laid down in seas that covered this area well before the first plants colonized the land, or the first animals dragged their bodies into the air. Everything was going well until I hit Springdale, at which time the Utah Highway Department made its presence known with road work. There were stretches where they were tearing up one side of the road, and only one lane could move on the other. So it was wait for what seemed like an endless line of cars to roll by before going, then stopping again a mile or so further. I think there were three places where they were tearing up the road. The busy season was about to begin at Zion, and they weren’t ready.

I checked into the Zion Park Hotel, about the cheapest you can find in the area but still very comfortable. They had a laundry mat on the other side of a building on the same block, so I thought it a good time to get some done. I had packed enough for ten days and was out there for fourteen. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that I would need to do laundry at some time, and the sooner I could get it out of the way the better.

Mesa and rock formations on the way to Zion.

Zion is one of the most popular national parks in the country, and the next day they were switching over to the shuttle system, in which no private cars were allowed past a certain point. You can still drive in and take the high road out of the park, which I intended to do the next day. Laundry was done in a little over an hour, and then it was time to look for someplace to eat. Zion Pizza and Noodle Company, just across the street, looked interesting, so I crossed the road, filling up with the backed up traffic coming out of the park, and ordered a Pizza. The place was crowded, but I found a table outside and was soon in a conversation with a young couple from Ohio. Talk turned to publishing, and another young lady asked a few questions. Yes, everyone really does want to be an author, until they find out what kind of work it takes. Half the pizza was enough, and I had left overs for dinner the next night. I went back to the hotel, reviewed my footage, cried over the smashed bug, and went to bed. Tomorrow would be a busy day, and I would be at this hotel for two nights. It had started raining, a light drizzle, and I went to sleep hoping that we didn’t have heavy rains that would spoil my video taping.

I was really looking forward to seeing Death Valley in reasonable temperatures. It had been 123 degrees at Furnace Creek the last time I had visited, and had hit 125 at one point while driving to it. It had remained comfortable in my car, but seeing as the temp seemed to fluctuate with the altitude, I avoided going to Badwater, the lowest point in North America.

Badlands, and further it, the valley, at Zabriskie point.

It had still been interesting. Stark arid landscapes, the perfect scene for a post-apocalyptic world, if that world had been scoured with nuclear fire. Many movies and TV shows, including The Twilight Zone, had been shot there. Mining settlements had come and gone. There were thousands of out of the way places on the edge, many with cabins or the remains of small towns. Aircraft had crashed here. Wonderhussy has a video of one of these crash sites that she went to, and to several more of the cabins up in the mountains surrounding the lowlands. There is water here. Not much, and most of it saline and undrinkable. But there are also springs of good water, and small valleys with lush vegetation. But not out on the lowlands that are the park. This was perfect territory for the imagination.

The old Amargosa Opera House. I would be staying in the attached hotel.

So I left Bonnie Springs after a good breakfast and drove up the back way, up Hwy 160 to Pahrump. Again some spectacular scenery. The Spring Mountains had white caps from a late season snow. I could look across miles of desolation to Sandy Valley. The road was actually quite good, and soon I was in Pahrump, where I decided to let my GPS lead the way. And it failed. Eventually I just turned down a west bound street, then over a north bound until I hit the convenience store I remembered from my last trip. Then it was westward to Death Valley Junction, where the Amagrosa Opera House is located. The hotel was hard to miss. There are only three buildings at the junction, along with a couple of old water towers from the borax processing days, when the junction was a company town. I took some pictures of the Opera House before moving on, taking advantage of the daylight. The Opera House itself has an amazing history. A couple rented it back in the day and actually opened it up to producing local plays. These plays are still hosted there in season. And the old hotel, which used to be quarters for the employees of the borax works, is still open. More on that later.

Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes.

So, I headed up Hwy 190 to Furnace Creek, which houses the visitor’s center for the National Park as well as a gas station and other services. The scenery along the way was spectacular for this old rock hound (I like to look at them. I don’t collect them, like Lucy in The Long, Long Trailer. I don’t want to pay the over limit charges on bags while flying and mailing them is also a non-starter. But the formations in the mountains were spectacular, and I could send them by mail anyway. I stopped at Zabriskie Point to go up to the overlook for another great view. I had been here in the summer, and it was just too hot for even this short upward hike. The walk in the seventy some odd degree temp was well worth it, and I got some great shots, as well as some video, from up there.

Rugged mountains of the park.

Going further into the park I encountered one of the major problems with my Akaso cameras. I had six batteries, and one 64GB micro-Sd card lasted for six hours. But the batteries lasted at most forty minutes, and more often thirty. I was constantly having to pull over and change them, as the camera gives very little warning before it shuts down. Still, I filmed most of the trip in, and was soon at Furnace Creek. What a difference. The temp was up in the high seventies (the high for the day was eighty-three), and there was a nice breeze. Still dry as hell, and the water was sucked right out of you. But I had plenty of water. After the stop over I headed north. Scotty’s Castle was closed, but Stovepipe Wells and the sand dunes were open, so off I went.

More of the surrounding mountains.

First I stopped at the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, sixteen square miles of mostly sand with some trees (mostly dead) and other sparse vegetation. It looked like it could be used, at the proper angles, as a set for a movie set in the Sahara. Stovepipe Wells was also small, without much more than a hotel, gas station, general store and a saloon/restaurant. I had a club sandwich at the saloon, which must have been an oasis of cool during the summer. Talking with the bartender I found out that Death Valley receives the most traffic during the summer, as hard as that is to believe. After lunch I headed back to Furnace Creek. This angle was how I entered the valley the first time, from the north, looking across the shimmering expanse of desolation. It had a grandeur I hadn’t seen anywhere else. The most desolate place in North America. The hottest, driest, and with the lowest elevation. It was still the same, though the temperatures were much more bearable.

Ruins of the Borax Processing Operation.

Near Artist’s Pallet.

From Furnace Creek I headed down the road to the south to Badwater, the lowest part of the park. I probably should have taken the roundabout road to the Artist’s Palette but was running out of time. Maybe next time. Still, the cliffs I could see were very colorful. The rock formations down this way were spectacular, and like everything else down here each mountain range was one of a kind. After a short stop at Badwater I continued south. I planned to leave the park by Jubilee Pass Road to Shoshone. It was a good thing I hadn’t taken the road to Artist’s Palette, since there was road construction at several points and one-way traffic. Finally made it to the turn off and the long road out through several passes. Filmed as much as I could of more spectacular scenery. Turning south on Hwy 178 I reached Shoshone, planning to stop and eat. Unfortunately there wasn’t much there. A school, a gas station, a post office and a museum. I filled up the car, paying the outrageous California price of over four dollars a gallon, then picked up a sandwich in case the restaurant at Amargosa Opera House wasn’t open. Which it wasn’t.

The owner of the hotel in the lobby taking a nap.

The hotel was cool. Not modern, not well painted, but it had that old-style ambiance to it. A perfect place for a ghost story with its history, but since I didn’t believe in ghosts I had no problem dismissing the possibility of late night visitations. And the owner had a friendly cat, giving me my kitty fix. The bed was comfortable, and I learned that there was a restaurant up the road. I headed that way and found out that the restaurant was also a hotel/casino, just over the state line into Nevada. I think every road into Nevada has a casino. This one was the Longstreet Inn, Casino and RV Resort. The food was not great, but it was filling, and I was back at the hotel in a flash, checking out my video take for the day. Tomorrow I would head into another state, and another national park.

I will be continuing my travelogue with my next post, but first I have some big news, and a shout out to some people you all may want to meet, if you haven’t already.

After about a month of talking and thinking about writing a novel in the Four Horsemen Universe of Chris Kennedy and Mark Wandrey, and finally coming up with a workable idea, I signed a contract to write a book in that Universe. When Eagles Dare will feature the Fierce Eagle Company, as featured in my short story in the anthology Few a Few Credits More, With The Eagles. In a universe where most of the mercenary companies use mecha and powered armor, the Eagles use good old-fashioned stealthcraft. So, this novel will be about that kind of mercenary unit. I am really excited about jumping into this universe. No, this doesn’t mean that I’m going to give up my own series and my independent career. Signing with Arc Manor to produce Kinship War didn’t mean that, and neither does this. But it is a big deal to get involved in this series.

Chris Kennedy has a winning formula here. I first met Chris, a retired Naval Aviator, at LibertyCon in Chattanooga, about four years ago. He was a successful independent author, and I had been working as a full-time author for over a year and a half. He was doing okay. Mark was struggling to get sales. They combined forces for a series and it took off. Both Mark and Chris are now full-time writers, and Chris is a publisher. The new paradigm of self-publishing allowed this. Chris and Mark both write in the Four Horsemen Universe, and imaginative setting filled with interesting aliens and the humans who are hired to kill them. For many years I have heard from my fans that they love how independent authors can put out more books in a series each year than a traditionally published author, who are normally limited to one. Chris and Mark, and the others they have enlisted into their cohort, allowing them to put out at least a book a month, are capitalizing on this fact. And the two anthologies of the series have helped other authors to be introduced to their reader base.

That’s what interested me in the anthology last year. Do I have enough fans to keep me going as a self-employed author? Yes, I do. Do I want more? Hell yes. Chris has a great business plan. And he has published a lot of really good authors. People like Kacy Ezell, Jason Cordova and Kevin Ikenberry. I have known Kevin for many years, dating back to Superstars in Colorado Springs. Kacy was on a panel I moderated at DragonCon, and is a kick ass Air Force helicopter pilot. Jason I also know from LibertyCon, and he was a Campbell Award Finalist some years back. So just getting into that crowd was also something of an attraction. So I will be doing at least one book in the series, a stand alone not in the main storyline, and see what happens. That means it will be my best effort, the same effort I put into Exodus, the same I put into the Kinship War series. I have gotten regular payments from the anthology. I hope for the same from the novel. And in other news, I will be back in the next anthology, due to release in early July I believe.

Now for a plug for Chris Kennedy Publishing, and not just because I will be doing a novel for them. It’s a good organization, that puts out a good product. Mark just put out a book called A Time to Run, not in the 4HU series, but it still looks interesting. Chris just put out a book in the 4HU with author Thomas A Mays called The Mutineer’s Daughter. Not in the 4HU series but recommended. If you want to get into the 4HU series the place to start is Cartwright’s Cavaliers. Or you can get the anthology I’m in, For a Few Credit’s More. Kevin has written Peacemaker, a part of the 4HU. Kacey Ezelle wrote Minds of Men, found on Amazon. And Jason has written Wraithkin with Chris, which can also be found on Amazon. A lot of good books by a lot of good authors, and I’m just scraping the top of the ice flow here. So get on over to Amazon and pick up some new reads. Or continue on with these series by a kick ass bunch of authors.

Up next: The Third Trip Out West, Part Six: Day Five: Death Valley and the Armagoosa Opera House Hotel.

Before taking the trip I had thought about going through the desert in a four wheeler, actually seeing it from within. There were several options on Expedia, and off, but I chose the one that offered both four wheeling and shooting auto weapons. I had shot several automatic weapons while in the Army, including the German G3, the G1 machine gun, the Uzi, and of course the M16, and the M60 I carried most of the time. I also shot a submachine gun last year at the local range. But I wanted to try some more, for research, don’t you know. So I signed up for this trip. They called me the day before, while I was on the road the Sandy Valley out by Goodsprings, and we set up a meeting by the Camelot Hotel and Casino the next day.

The Arizona Desert.

Things started off badly from the start. I couldn’t find my credit card when I was in McDonald’s getting breakfast. Fortunately I found it at the Bonnie Springs Restaurant that night. Then I couldn’t find the meeting place. I was on the phone with the driver/guide for some time before they finally found me. Then it was off to their facility, which turned out to be in Arizona on the road to Kingman that I had wanted to travel the day before.

They had a small roadside attraction with advertising for their firing ranges. First thing we did was get onboard a huge monster truck that was like a limousine, driving over hills and into dips. After we were outfitted with helmets and gloves, then it was back on the van to ride out to area where we would be riding the four wheelers. Now, I had ridden exactly this kind of four wheeler before, when I worked for Tallahassee Nurseries when I was an undergrad at FSU. We would fly on those things over the dirt road to the back of the nursery. I figured this would be the same. But I was much younger then, the rides were shorter, and the dirt road at the nursery was in much better shape.

I was well outfitted for my hell ride.

Let me point out first of all that this was my experience, that of an out of shape sixty-year-old. Everyone else was much younger, most in their early twenties, and they seemed to eat it up. They checked to see that we knew how to use the brakes, and then we were off on the hour long trek through the desert and mountains down to the Colorado River. They tried to keep the speed down to twenty, and it was still too much for me. The road was too rough, and I felt like I was going to be flung off of my cycle. I still had some misgivings from the time I was thrown off a motorcycle and broke a rib, and it was only going to get worse. But I stuck it out, my pride not letting me quit, until we got down to the river. I saw some beautiful rock formations on the way, but I couldn’t check them out because I was having to keep all of my attention on the road. We went through some narrows, a lot of curves, and then stopped. The good news was I could get off the cycle. The bad news was I had to ride the damned thing all the way back. I learned later on that I should have bought a trip on one of the enclosed four wheelers. Too late now.

There were some young kids from California who were total jerks. They were pulling rocks off of walls of sandstone, just ruining the natural splendor of the area. And one kept letting me catch up to him, then sped off and pushed up a cloud of dust into my face. Again, it was not a ride I enjoyed, but everyone else seemed to.

The payoff of the hour ride, the Colorado River.

We went back to their establishment to get our burger, what they advertised as the World’s Greatest. First, those of us shooting went out to the range. I had tried to get a P90, like the gun used in Stargate, but had been told they were having trouble getting ammunition for it. Instead I received a German submachine gun, I think a G5. First we started with a Glock 17, no big thrill since I own one. After that I fired the German Subgun. Then an AK47. I own one of those as well, but mine is only a semi, and this was the real thing. Last, for me, was a SAW, what they advertised as a belt fed machine gun. It actually is belt fed, but it can also be fed by a magazine, and that’s what I got, which was a little disappointing. It was fun, but not really worth what I paid.

Then it was back to the restaurant and the World’s Greatest Hamburger. Not even close. It wasn’t a bad burger, but Whataburger and Sonic at home had it beat, as did Goodsprings. After that it was back on the van and a trip to Hoover Dam. We didn’t actually go to the damn, but stopped at the walk way that led to the bridge over the Colorado. Still, I got some good footage riding in the front of the van. Would I do this trip again? No, not really. Seeing the territory was great, but the actual ride was a terror. I was back at Bonnie Springs that evening, recovered my credit card, and ate. It was my last night at the ranch. Tomorrow I was heading for Death Valley. I had been out there last time, but it had been true hell at 125 degrees. This would hopefully be much milder temperatures. I was really looking forward to it.